Playing to Win: Postscript
by QuasiOuster
Summary: A little AU snippet of life in my Playing to Win universe. Daryl gets to musing as the family spends a relaxing day at the park. But his off days never, ever go as planned.


_**Author's Note: I still do not own even a tiny part of The Walking Dead franchise. No infringement or profit is involved with this little story.**_

_**This is a bit of an extra epilogue for my other story Playing to Win which I suppose doesn't require reading but it's definitely advisable. I wrote this over the weekend after spending a day in the park with friends. It's one of my experimental prompts where I limit my time to write and limit my editing, just to see what I can come up with. So this isn't the most polished thing in the world but it was fun to write. Hope you enjoy! **_

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Although the forecast had called for thunderstorms, the day seemed to be turning out pretty nice after all. Most of the kids were playing hard in the playground area, jockeying for the best swing or seeing who could get down the slide the quickest. Their squeals of happiness kept the parents scattered throughout the area relaxed and content.

Daryl lay on a large blanket spread out on the enormous green lawn of the park, a few feet from the playground's barrier. He'd just finished his "kid shift" for the birthday party festivities and decided to sit back and let the other parents run the little ones ragged. They'd certainly done a number on him—he was long past his spring chicken days. Taking a sip of water, he tossed a nearby bag filled with clothes behind his head and reclined back onto the soft grass.

He closed his eyes and let the sunshine wash over him. Even if he found himself on a playground in the middle of the suburbs with people on all sides of him instead of in the woods in the middle of nowhere with only animals and insects for company, he always did enjoy being outside.

Before he could drift off, a heavy weight launched itself into his side—a bundle of energy better known as his little girl, Marietta.

"Papa! No sleepin'. Come play." She'd crawled onto his stomach and stared at him as she leaned against his chest.

Rushing to his side after her, Michonne had Etta's shoes in one hand and a toy dump truck in the other. "Sorry, Papa. You know how quick and sneaky she can be." She faux-glared down at Etta who blinked up at her innocently.

"Mmhmm. She's your kid, aint she? Wouldn't expect no less." His wife nudged him in the arm with her sandal-covered foot.

"Remember we were going to let Papa take a break. Like naptime but for grownups."

"Oh yeah." The little girl grinned, a spitting image of his own. It also let the both of them know that she hadn't forgotten a thing. But she wanted her daddy and what Marietta wanted, she usually got.

Daryl used his daughter's distraction to grab her and lift her into the air. Her giggles filled him with that familiar burning love he felt whenever he bonded with his daughter. Michonne shook her head and dropped to her knees beside Daryl, a bit winded from having chased after Etta across the lawn, not looking much like a spring chicken either today.

"Mama, look at me!" Etta cried, her delight growing with each toss into the air. Daryl would lower her back to his chest and kiss the top of her head before lifting her up once more. Her head bobbed about with its two pigtails, and her curls waved and twisted in the breeze of the momentum along with the ribbons on her shirt. She'd chosen this particular outfit herself this morning and had expressed pride over her choice the entire day.

Michonne lowered herself down to lie perpendicular to Daryl and share his "bag-pillow" as she looked up at their girl along with him. "I see you, Sweetie. Don't let Papa throw you too high or you might fly away."

For a moment, Etta looked at her father, nervous about the possibilities. But then she giggled shyly, uncertain. "That's silly, Mama."

"Yeah, Mama," Daryl added and tossed her extra high again. Michonne chuckled and leaned over to snuggle into the little girl once he'd lowered her back down.

Daryl settled Etta back on his lap where she gently patted his chest to a beat in her own head. Glancing over, she honed in on one of the other kids playing with a pail-full of balls and climbed down from on top of Daryl to check it out. Michonne sighed and got back up to give chase, shoes still in hand.

Closing his eyes again, Daryl let the joy of that moment linger. He hoped never to reach a point where these small moments spent with his kids were taken for granted. He popped his head up to see Andre in the playground area swinging across the monkey bars with another kid racing along beside him on an adjacent set. They were clearly in competition but also having fun trying to best each other. He went back to his relaxation knowing that Michonne or one of the other parents they'd come with would have an eye out for the boy.

They'd probably be out here doing this again next month for Andre's birthday party, all the neighborhood kids and his friends running around in barely controlled chaos. They'd talked about maybe taking a group of kids out to the lake for a long weekend to mix things up instead of the low-key backyard party. But with the garage and Michonne's work schedule, the idea seemed too overwhelming. And if they were going to go on vacation at the end of the year as they'd planned, they needed to take as few days off as possible.

He smiled to himself. This was his life now.

Not that anyone would find him complaining. Sure, he attended his share of play dates and parent-teacher conferences and found himself surrounded by a bunch of square-ass city types at events like these. But he also spent most of his week getting his hands dirty while still making time to do some hunting and bonding with his brother out in the sticks. Only now, sometimes he'd take his kids with him or fuss with his woman about watching them while he went off and had his fun.

And rewarding his wife for the trouble remained one of the perks for the whole damn situation.

Opening his eyes again, he checked that Michonne and Etta were nearby, now playing with some colored balls the little boy next to her seemed open to sharing. Michonne probably turned it into a "teaching moment" as she called it since their strong-willed daughter liked getting her way and hadn't quite mastered the concept of sharing. Michonne was so good with her though, patient and firm when she had to be. Even though most folks thought him the grumpy one in the family, he just didn't have it in him to say no to the kids much, which they well knew. If it weren't for her, the kids would have the run of the house even more than they already did. And she tended to be the boss of him too, using that same gentle discipline, always intent on winning.

She looked particularly lovely to him today, her hair down but pulled away from her face with a headband and tied back a little. The tank top and shorts she wore exposed so much of her rich, dark skin and she glowed with contentment. These were her favorite kind of days too when they could spend them together with the kids. Between both their crazy work hours and Etta's energy and Andre's back and forth with his dad, they rarely were allowed to just be normal and enjoy their lives.

Glancing back over to the playground, he caught sight of Andre and his friend looking a little heated. He wondered if it had to do with their race a few moments before. Andre's shoulders were tense and he had that still, stoic scowl on his face that he'd inherited from his mother. It didn't seem promising.

Daryl sat up. "Hey Dre!" he called out. The boy turned in his direction and Daryl waved him over.

"Why?" he asked, not quite a whine but close. Daryl didn't even respond but fixed him with his sternest gaze. His friend said something to him and Andre was quiet for a beat and then shook his head. He waved his friend off and then shuffled towards Daryl.

When he finally arrived where Daryl reclined, he dropped to his knees with his head bowed, already suspecting he was in trouble for something.

"You aint in trouble," Daryl said first off. "At least not yet. What's all that about over there? You and Kevin fixin' to fight or somethin' 'cause I can tell ya right now, your Mom's not gon' stand for that."

Andre sighed. "No we weren't fighting. It's nothing."

"If it's nothin' then you can lay it out for me."

Andre thought about it, looking back to where his friend had run off. It'd been a little strange making the transition from "the cool guy his mom dated" to stepdad but they'd worked it out well. Daryl liked to think that Andre could talk to him about things he felt uncomfortable discussing with either of his other parents. And they did a lot of bonding over their mutual love of cars and fixing things. To Daryl, fixing up folks' junkers had been something he picked up and had an eye for. It didn't suck and it paid the bills. But after talking with Michonne about it, he figured the boy had a knack for engineering and wanted to encourage him, help him do more with it than he'd ever had the chance for.

"Naw, it's really nothing. Kevin called me a runt 'cause I couldn't get up the bigger bars and I got mad. He was just joking though."

Daryl sat up and looked toward where Kevin now stood helping his mom wrangle his four-year-old twin sisters—the boys often bonded over the pain of having younger siblings. "You sure y'all are cool?" He felt that Andre could take care of his own business with his friends but he'd step in and talk to the kid's mom if he had to.

Andre nodded. "Yeah, he felt bad. And I guess I was being grumpy about it since I didn't get picked for the football game at recess the other day."

Ruffling his hair, Daryl returned to his reclining. "Football's for meatheads anyway. Hold out for basketball or baseball's what I say."

"Or track, 'cause I'm faster than all those kids anyway."

"Works too," Daryl agreed. Andre lay himself down to lean against Daryl on the blanket and pulled out his handheld video game from one of the many bags tossed about the vicinity. They sat quietly soaking up the sun, the tiny beeps and crashes from the video game mixed in with squeaks and stomping on the playground. After a while, the lazy heat must have worn the boy down and he dozed off. Daryl took the game from his slack hands and went back to snoozing.

He heard the softest footsteps approaching and then another warm body settle near him. Turning his head, he opened his eyes in time to catch Michonne lean over and kiss the boy on the forehead and then reach up to kiss him too.

"Hi," she said.

He smiled. And then yawned. "Hey."

"How are you tired, over here napping like you're on vacation?" She chuckled when he pinched her in the arm and then stretched out to share his makeshift pillow again.

"We're missin' a kid," he pointed out.

"Rick swung by to take her and Judith to the swings. He told me to come supervise your nap which means he's giving both of us a little break from kid duty."

Daryl took her hand and kissed it. "Won't hear me complainin'." He kept hold of her hand and they settled into the afternoon. Every now and then, Michonne would check on their surroundings but seemed satisfied with what she saw and would return to their pallet. Sometimes she'd offer a progress report, letting him know that Etta had moved onto the slide or that Rick and another dad had started some unknown game that involved two balls and a Frisbee. He'd recruited Carl and his friend Patrick to help out on that one.

"You think I can take Andre with me to the garage tomorrow?" Daryl asked after a while. "I was thinkin' I should spend some time with him if he's gonna be with his dad all 'a next month. And when he gets back, we'll be crazy tryin' to get ready for this dang trip that's been takin' over everything."

He expected Michonne to laugh about that, especially given that their "dang trip" had been his idea. But she didn't.

"Yeah, that sounds nice."

Daryl looked over at her sensing something off about her reaction. She looked the same as always though, still and peaceful with a hint of a smile at his suggestion.

More moments passed and Daryl closed his eyes again as he rubbed his thumb along her hand. "So about that," Michonne mutters. "The vacation."

"Uh uh, you better not be changing shit up on me, woman. We decided and it's done." Even getting her to consider a long vacation had taken some doing. He'd finally had to pull the "we never got a honeymoon" card since they'd been expecting Marietta when their actual wedding took place. And then picking a place turned into a production, mostly on his part because he'd never been out of Georgia and had no clue what he'd like. They'd ended up deciding on Australia and the logistics of taking a trip that huge continued to involve all kinds of complications.

"Well, not me, per se."

He pulled at her hand to get her attention and she looked up at him. "I don't care. We're goin' and you're gonna like it. End 'a story. No runnin' out on me."

Instead of getting annoyed at his sassing, each of his arguments made her smile even wider.

"I don't know—"

Before she could finish, they spotted Rick walking over with a tired looking but cheerful Marietta holding one hand and Judith hanging onto the other. Mindful of the sleeping boy at Daryl's side, he put his fingers to his lips and Etta mimicked him with a grin. She walked the rest of the way on exaggerated tip-toes.

"Hey y'all. Thought I'd bring your little one back to ya. She played a mean game of tag out there." The little girl flopped onto her mom and snuggled into her embrace. Daryl reached around and stroked her hair.

"Did you thank your Uncle Rick, Etta?"

"Thanks!" she said in a loud whisper and curled back into Michonne.

"Always a pleasure to entertain my goddaughter." He sat down to stay and chat, steering clear of Andre who was clearly knocked out. They got caught up on the new happenings with Rick's job and Carl's school. The latter even stopped by for a second to talk comic books with Michonne and tease Daryl about some videogame he'd beaten him and Andre on a few weeks ago. By the time Judith dragged Rick back up to go get a snack, Etta had fallen asleep on her mother, mouth open and drooling. Looking around, they noticed that several other families had followed their lead and were lounging on blankets enjoying a snack or a rest.

"These kids aint good for nothin'," Daryl said laughing at the image of both of them laid out and napping.

"At least they're kids. What's your excuse, old man?"

His scowl turned into a smirk. "Old man? You was singin' a different tune the other night when I—"

She put her finger to his lips to hush the dirty description at the tip of his tongue, incidentally, the part of his body she'd put to work on that occasion. He took her finger into his mouth and nipped at her. They held each other's smoldering gaze at the memory. Her expression turned serious as she pulled back her hand. "But you love this though, right?"

"Love what?" Her tone made him think that she'd thrown some kind of trick question at him.

She paused, rubbing Etta's back. "All this. The babysitting and playgrounds and homework. It's not like the life you were living before I broke down on your doorstep and put you to work."

"Aint gon' lie, it sure was a new way 'a thinkin' and livin'. But it's nice to have Dre and Etta waitin' at home for me when I have a shit day." He reached out to put his arm around her and maneuver her head onto his shoulder. "And havin' you around aint so bad either." She smiled and kissed his chin. He traced his fingertips up and down her arm, from elbow to wrist and back. "It's good to be in a house where folks love on ya instead 'a fightin'."

"Yeah." She caught his hand again and lazily intertwined their fingers. "So …" She shifted a little to move Etta around in her arm so she could get a better look at him. "What would you say about there being more? Of all of that?"

As he relished the comfort of her warm fingers in his, Daryl recalled that he'd just been thinking about how content his life was now. One of them would mention having more kids on occasion but it usually came out as a joke or a subtle complaint. Yet he pondered her question seriously.

"Guess I'd say it's all good. More the merrier. Our plates are full now but when Etta gets a little older might be nice to take another crack at it." He looked down at her and noticed her gaze turned off into the distance. "Didn't know that was on your mind what with all your work stuff and how crazy things are 'round the house now."

"It's not so much that it's on my mind. It's more that it's already in progress. Like six weeks in progress." His hand stilled in hers and he felt her eyes boring into his head.

He blinked a few times and tried to get his brain to work. "'Scuse me?"

"Looks like there's gonna be another Dixon for us in the near future." Beside him, she stiffened. Her tone didn't reveal any of what she thought on the matter and it made him even more nervous.

They'd been having such a nice, leisurely day in the park. This was the last thing he expected to hear.

He propped himself up a little to look at her full-on and test whether she was really saying what she was saying or just pulling his leg. Their intense meeting of eyes gave him all the answers he needed on it.

More diapers and sleepless nights and college to pay for? More hustling to make ends meet and worrying every time he's away from them for more than a few hours? Every emotion he could conjure tried to claw its way to the surface only to be kicked down and replaced by something else. As the seconds ticked by, Michonne's mouth had turned into a frown and her shoulders remained tense as she held Marietta.

Peering down at their daughter in her arms and their son a few feet away, his panic receded, replaced by a flare of love and warmth. The possibilities surfaced of more sweet baby kisses and play dates and story times. More chances to pass on his appreciation of living off the land and enjoying nature. More cries for Papa when no one else will do. Another Dixon would change things a lot. For the better. He lowered his head to touch hers, eyes closed and lips hovering as if waiting for the right second to land. Against the soft breeze of the sunny afternoon, he held her close, worshipped her for the gift she represented to him and the wonders she continued to fill his life with. Finally, he bestowed a heartfelt kiss against her cheek.

Yet, he couldn't let his woman get away with springing this on him. He lay back next to her and began to caress her fingers again, laying their joined hands at her hip close to where Etta rested. Shrugging his shoulders, he responded, "No big deal. Let's have another one. Let's have three more. Five more, even."

Michonne slipped her hand from his and smacked his arm. "_You_ have five more, Dixon." He let her get the aggression out of her system and then took her hand again to kiss it. "This is serious Daryl. What do you think?"

He shook his head. "Don't matter what I think 'cause it sounds like we already got ourselves caught up." He looked down at his family, the boy he considered his son, as real as flesh and blood; his daughter who'd been another surprise and the best confirmation of his love for this beautiful, sometimes infuriating but always amazing woman beside him. "Don't think I've heard better news in a long time." He flicked her chin up with a finger and planted a kiss to her lips and held it for longer than normal, savoring her. He pulled back and then pecked her again feeling her smile against his.

"So all that you were goin' on about with the vacation?" he asked.

She nodded. "It's not like I'm trying to get out of it. I'm as excited as you are." Glancing up at him with a smirk she clarified, "Well maybe not _as_ excited. But I was looking forward to it." Michonne sighed. "But soon, we'll have other priorities."

"Yeah." It amazed him, this willingness to let the whole trip go. It had taken him weeks to come up with a place, Michonne giving him free reign to pick wherever in the world he wanted to go. He'd asked folks and looked at maps before deciding on Australia—which Michonne thought sounded perfect. Exploring the outback seemed like the ultimate Daryl Dixon activity but they still had the cities to do the artsy things she liked too. They'd priced the hotels and airfare, looked into day trips and mapped out their itinerary. They'd arranged for the kids' care for the two weeks, altered their work schedules to prepare and had even started shopping for some special gear they'd need while out there.

Taking his silence for distress, Michonne squeezed his hand to get his attention. "You know, maybe we can make it work. Things would end up being a little tight for a while but we could do it. We still have a lot of Etta's old stuff and we know enough people to get hand-me-downs. I can shorten my leave this time—"

Daryl shushed her. "No. It's off the table and I'm fine with it." He sensed her skepticism. "I am. Wouldn't say so if I weren't."

"I know. It's just that those plans meant a lot to us. Our first big trip together. Our honeymoon, remember? Or was that just the argument you used to try and butter me up?"

They chuckled together. "I for damn sure had to butter you up on it, stubborn woman you are."

"You love it," she shot back.

He kissed the crown of her head. "Sure do." At Daryl's hip, Andre stirred and rolled over, splaying himself across the bottom of the blanket. Daryl wiped the sweat from his brow and soothed him back to sleep. "Are _you_ okay 'bout all this?" he muttered softly, a little hesitant about her reaction.

The smile his question elicited transformed her whole face.

"More than okay." She nuzzled into his neck and kissed him softly enough to tickle. "I just feel bad about our plans. Hikes in national parks. Camping in the outback. You wining and dining me in Sydney." Daryl nodded at each retelling of their itinerary. "We made all these plans together."

He slid his hand around her hip to rest on the side of her stomach, next to where Etta had curled up. "That's the good thing 'bout how we are. We know how to make new plans."

This time next year, everything will have changed but he was sure it'd all be same too, just more chaos and more happiness.

"Don't need to go all the way 'round the world for some adventure. Addin' another Dixon's gon' make for a whole new ball game. For all we got comin' to us, may as well have Sydney right here." Stroking his fingers against the thin material of her shirt snug against her abdomen, he imagined how amazing she'd look again carrying their kid.

They both paused after digesting his off-hand comment. "You better hope it's a girl then," Michonne said. It would be another good name and story for a kid of theirs.

Yes, this was his life now. And it was a damn good one.

_Fini_


End file.
